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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"

The night was
far too dark to reveal features, but to Murphy's strained vision the
newcomer appeared somewhat slender in build, and of good height.
"Whar'd--ye say ye--wus bound?"
"Mouth o' the Powder. We kin ride tergether fer a night or two."
"Ye kin--do as ye--please, but--I ain't a huntin'--no company,--an' I'm
a'--goin' 'cross now."
He advanced a few strides toward his horses. Then suddenly he gave
vent to a smothered cry, so startling as to cause the stranger to
spring hastily after him.
"Oh! My God! Oh! Look there!"
"What is it, man?"
"There! there! The picture! Don't you see?"
"Naw; I don't see nuthin'. Ye ain't gone cracked, hev ye? Whose
picture?"
"It's there!--O Lord!--it's there! My God! can't ye see?--An' it's his
face--all a-gleamin' with green flames--Holy Mary--an' I ain't seen
it--afore in--fifteen year!"
He seemed suddenly to collapse, and the stranger permitted him to drop
limp to the earth.
"Darn if I kin see anythin', old man, but I 'll scout 'round thar a
bit, jest ter ease yer mind, an' see what I kin skeer up."
He had hardly taken a half-dozen steps before Murphy called after him:
"Don't--don't go an' leave me--it's not there now--thet's queer!"
The other returned and stood gazing down upon his huddled figure.


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